


Saturation Point

by caffeinatedmusing



Series: Adventures of an Altmer Rogue [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Altmer - Freeform, Based on a Tumblr Post, Gen, Party, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:59:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9635891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinatedmusing/pseuds/caffeinatedmusing
Summary: So... this grew from an oc meme on tumblr and an ensuing question from bigwinged. Takes place before Ceirin has left home.meme: http://caffeinatedmusing.tumblr.com/post/156965958718/character-meme-guilty-or-innocentquestion/answer:http://caffeinatedmusing.tumblr.com/post/156984926708/i-am-slightly-surprised-that-ceirin-has-never





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bigwinged (Megaptera)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megaptera/gifts).



Ceirin wove his way through the mansion, around the guests, past marble statues, the expensive furnishings, and past large paintings by some of Summerset’s most famous artists prominently displayed on all the walls. He was stopped periodically to make small talk with people who recognized him as his mother’s son. He had to turn sideways in places as he made his way down the hall. 

The retirement party for his mother’s boss was a popular affair. Everyone who was anyone in Alinor was here tonight and mer from several other cities were as well. The fellow had clearly networked a lot in his career. There was even an attaché all the way from Cyrodiil. The whole night was a seemingly endless loop of ass kissing, mindless lip service, and reminders from his parents not to say or do anything to embarrass them. 

Ceirin had grown bored minutes after arriving. 

He had done his best but when he had been trapped in conversation by two Thalmor mages who wanted to gab about the _obvious_ superiority of Altmeri magic, he had opened his mouth and said something controversial. He could tell by the way everyone who had heard it had turned to look at him as if he had something unpleasant stuck to his face. So, it had clearly been time to make his exit.

Music from the ballroom wafted out of open windows as he made his way outside. He stopped to lift a glass of champagne in a tall flute, spell- frosted and delicately engraved, from a serving tray without making eye contact with the trays bearer. Even the servants were dressed up, if formal uniforms in dark colors could be considered fancy. 

He drank it down fast, abandoning the glass on a shelf of silver wrought sculptures with the petty hope that it might leave a water stain on the rich wood, and continued his way out to the gardens and the long sloping swath of grass beyond them. Some fresh air was in order. 

Wandering through the neat geometric hedges and fragrant blossoms, Ceirin heard the most unusual sound of genuine laughter. Following it, he found several other mer around his own age playing a game of tag through the flower beds. He watched for several longing minutes before someone tagged him in.

They tore up and down the green, dodged around the flowers, ducked behind potted trees, and swerved to avoid other guests. More and more people began to gather and watch, cheering the runners or jeering the results. Several participants, Ceirin included, now sported grass stains on their finery. Spurred by the drinks and dared by the disapproving glares from their elders, the game edged closer and closer to the house. 

Ceirin was the target again and took off running, his pursuer hot on his heels. She had kicked off her fancy shoes and the long dress did not slow her down in the slightest. 

He veered around a potted tree and leapt a low bed of flowers. Glancing back, she had followed move for move. Giddy and grinning, he headed towards the house, where the party had spilled out around the pool and promenade areas. He wove his way around groups of people talking and eating hors d'oeuvres, hoping to lose her in the crowd. Checking over his shoulder, he could see her struggling to squeeze past a group of politicians without interrupting them or being rude. 

Smirking, he spun around, looking for another route to take. Someone brushed past him; he stepped to the side of the pool to let them by.

“Got you!” His pursuer had caught up. 

He flinched, twisting to avoid her hand as she reached out to tag him. One foot slipped on the smooth stone at the pools edge.

He lost his balance. 

Too late, he felt the hand slap against his shoulder.

He caught the faces of the crowd slipping by sideways as he toppled into the water. Most of them hadn’t even noticed.

When he surfaced, spluttering, it was to just one face; eyes narrowed and mouth pressed into a thin line of disapproval; his father.

Heaving a sigh, Ceirin hauled himself up out of the water and waited, dripping, for whatever discipline was coming. 

_Worth it_ , he thought.


End file.
